


Rewrite the Stars

by Fionakevin073



Series: Long Live All the Magic We Made [18]
Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fionakevin073/pseuds/Fionakevin073
Summary: Where Anne is a matchmaker.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Henry VIII of England, Mary I of England/Philipp Herzog von Pfalz-Neuburg | Philip of Bavaria
Series: Long Live All the Magic We Made [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/751893
Kudos: 54





	Rewrite the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> For Terra King, who requested this.  
> x.
> 
> Hey guys! This was just a quick one shot someone requested. I hope everyone is doing well and keeping safe! One shot requests are staying closed after this, though I may come back and write one last one just to finish this series off, but that’s just a possibility. Stay safe and healthy! 
> 
> And for Terra King, I hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> Until next time, 
> 
> Fionakevin073

**November 1539**

Anne has been restored as Queen for five months when the issue of Mary’s marriage comes up. By this time, Mary is twenty and three, well past the age where most women are wed. Anne understands the hesitance to marry her; in many eyes, she is still the legitimate heir to the throne of England. She can’t marry just anyone - that would be too dangerous.

And Anne, despite being pleased with the newfound peace between her and Mary, can not have her marry someone who would or could one day threaten her sons and daughter. That was not an option. But she _did_ want her step daughter to be happy, especially after all the pain she had caused her, after being isolated from the world and being kept from her mother.

So, when hears one of Henry’s councillors mention it to him in his study, Anne sweeps into the room, not caring that they know she’s been eavesdropping.

“Your grace,” the man murmurs, curtsying.

That’s one of the benefits of her restored Queenship: nothing and no one could touch her now, after all that happened. After Cromwell. She was too beloved by the people, and it would be too frowned upon by other nations.

“Sir,” she replies, keeping her gaze on her husband.

“Anne,” Henry greets, taking a bite from the apple in his hands. “What is it, my love?”

Ignoring the endearment, Anne replies: “Mary. I heard you talk of Mary.”

Instantly, Henry’s eyes darken as his mouth twists.

“What of it?” He asks, sounding a little tired, and perhaps a little wary. He’s been pleased with the newfound solidity of Anne and Mary’s relationship, Anne can tell. She hadn’t even realized how much he missed his first daughter when she’d first been Queen, and she is a little ashamed for not noticing. Mayhaps he thinks she’s going to demand Mary never be wed, or only to some low nobleman. Or maybe even sending her to a nunnery.

“I want to help,” she says instead. “I want to help choose potential bachelors.”

Her husband observes her a moment.

“I want her to be happy, Henry,” she tells him sincerely. “Let me help.”

The councillor knows to keep his mouth firmly shut.

“Alright,” Henry says, smiling softly. “Alright.”

—

Mary reacts to the news with a faltering cool expression.

“Marriage,” the young woman repeats. Her eyes flicker across the room, to where her siblings are playing.

Anne’s eyes follow her.

“Yes,” Henry says. “You are more than old enough to be wed, Mary.”

Mary nods, as if processing the information.

“Marriage,” she murmurs under her breath.

Anne’s heart reaches out for the girl.

“Many men will come,” she hears herself say. “You can wed whoever you like best.”

Mary looks at her, then at her father.

“And you approve of this?”

It’s a bold question - bolder than Anne would have ever expected of her to ask.

“Yes of course,” Henry replies.

There’s a moment of tense silence as Mary exhales loudly.

“Very well,” she says, rising and smoothing the creases in her skirts. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Anne looks at Henry when the door slams shut.

“Well,” he says, rubbing his chin. “That wasn’t the reaction we hoped for.”

—

The bachelors arrive near Christmastide, and the court whispers amongst themselves over who Lady Mary is going to wed. There are various Lords and Dukes and Minor princes that arrive, waiting to seek her hand. The lady in question is dressed in a beautiful navy gown lined with gems at the rim, and she looks beautiful.

She’s also been ignoring Anne for the past few weeks, but that is an entirely other matter. Anne feels as though the peace they’ve worked so hard towards over the past few months is slipping out of her grasp, and she’s frightened by it. She doesn’t want to scare Mary, or think she’s trying to get rid of her.

Anne watches as suitor after suitor rolls through the doors. There’s a minor Prince and others from the Netherlands, a powerful Lord from France, a few from Germany and then—

“I didn’t think he’d come,” Henry murmurs to her, after the current courtier has retreated from their thrones.

Anne follows his gaze to find a handsome, dark haired smiling willingly at them.

Anne can’t help but raise her eyebrows.

“Who is he?” She murmurs to Henry.

“Duke Philip of Bavaria,” he informs her, mouth twisting.

“Ah,” Anne says. “Quite Protestant family, no?”

“Yes,” he says. “Indeed.”

He says it as though that automatically rules him out as a viable suitor — if it truly did, he would not have been invited to come to court. But Anne knows Henry wants to balance the line - cement England’s new religion and create valuable allies across Europe. There is renewed talk now of Elizabeth marrying the heir to the French throne, Charles.

She shoves that thought away. Mary would be remaining in England, she was sure.

Anne, despite herself, is impressed when the Duke introduces himself. He’s all wide smiles and charming grins, but Anne can find no malicious intent in his gaze, no falseness. He tells her he’s happy to see she’s in good health, and Anne, after having so many months of people staring at her horrified, for some reason believes him.

As he walks away, head high as he disappears into the sea of people filling their court, Anne promises herself to keep an eye on him.

\--

Anne meets multiple of possible suitors over the next few days. They seem to have gotten into their heads to try and get on _her_ good side, without even seeming to make an effort with Lady Mary. No doubt they thought Henry would listen to whatever she wanted, because of everything.

Anne rubs at her chest, shutting the door to the nursery behind her. The boys had just been put to bed for their afternoon nap and so she makes her way to Elizabeth’s room. She’s in the girl’s solar, carefully stepping over one of the new dolls that Henry got her when she hears it.

“Do you like any of them, Mary?” Her daughter asks.

Anne quietens, careful not to make a sound.

She hears the other girl sigh.

“Not really,” she responds. “They all spend their time with Father or the Queen, I barely know any of them.”

“Some of them are handsome though,” Elizabeth whispers. “That one Duke looks—“

“No,” Mary interrupts. “Not him. He’s too Pr—“

She stops, sighs heavily.

“Mama and Papa won’t let you marry someone you don’t love Mary,” Elizabeth says, her kind girl.

Anne smiles.

“I don’t know, Elizabeth,” Mary says. “Somethings need to be taken into account other than my feelings.”

Mary must ruffle Elizabeth’s hair, for her daughter squeals for Mary to stop.

Anne quietly leaves the room. _Is that what Mary thinks? That her opinions don’t matter._

She wonders briefly what Charles would tell her to do, and the thought makes her stomach clench.

_Come on Anne,_ she ponders. _Think._

—

She doesn’t want to scare Mary. Her step-daughter is still avoiding her, though Anne is pleased to note that she isn’t avoiding her siblings, which is something to be grateful for. Henry tells her not to worry about it, that Mary will come around, but still, Anne does so anyway.

She watches marry with her possible suitors, knows her well enough by now to tell that her smiles are forced, her laughter faked. They dance with her and then return to Anne or Henry’s side, all false charm and promises.

Not Duke Philip. For certain, he speaks to Anne and Henry, shows his deference to the King and Queen, but he spends most of his time looking at Lady Mary. He barely approaches her, from what Anne can tell.

That changes around a fortnight into his stay.

Anne is eating beside Henry at the head table, when she looks up to find Duke Philip approaching Lady Mary. He murmurs something to her, and Anne can not tell if it is the lighting, but it appears as though she flushes.

Mary looks more at ease with him that she does with the others, but there’s this guarded look on her face, almost of resistance.

Anne notices, because of course she does.

She looks over to find Henry speaking with some Catholic Duke with Protestant sympathies from France. She understands that this is the person that Mary _should_ want. That Henry wants. Politics are important, Anne knows. England needs to know stability — _she_ needs to know stability. But Anne can’t bear to have Lady Mary hate her again, believing she was discarded by her family. She can not.

So she sits back, and watches.

—

The court is buzzing about the growing relationship between Mary and Duke Philip.

It pleases Anne, to hear that they’ve grown closer. Mary and the man with the genuine smile. There are certain rumours that Anne knows are not true - Mary and the Duke are not wildly kissing each other, thank you — but the overall consensus is the same; Mary is being far more tolerable to the Duke than anyone would have expected of the Catholic princess.

Henry, however, is not so amused.

“I thought you wanted her to be happy,” Anne tells him, when they’re in his solar.

“I do,” he replies, scratching his chin. “But I want her to be happy with the person I chose for her.”

Anne rolls her eyes.

“Henry,” she says softly. “That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he replies, looking a bit sheepish. “But it would be a whole lot easier if it did.”

Anne understands that. The weight of being a monarch is something that weighs on her head, is something that she is still getting used to.

“She won’t choose him,” Henry says finally. “I know it. He’s too different--“

He pauses.

_To Protestant._

It’s a dangerous thing to say, even to imply, but everyone knew where Mary’s religious loyalties lied anyway. A bit of an open secret to the court.

_Maybe that would be better,_ Anne says. _Show that she’s on our side, make her less likely to—_

She stops that train of thought, ashamed with herself.

She worries that night if Lady Mary was right to be suspicious of her, to avoid her so. Was she somehow, deep down, scheming to ensure her sons and daughter’s place in the world? Make sure Mary wasn’t a threat?

_Maybe,_ she allows. _But I want her to be happy, no matter what._

_—_

The next morn, she summons the Duke to her solar. She has biscuits and tea ready for when he arrives.

“Your majesty,” he says.

Duke Philip is dressed nicely, all in black.

“Your grace,” she returns, smiling. “Please sit.”

He does, and they spend a few moments looking at each other.

“How do you find England, Duke?” She asks.

“Call me Philip, if you wish, your majesty,” he interjects.

“Philip,” she amends.

“I find it very pleasant,” he says. “Beautiful with the snow in Christmastide.”

“Indeed,” she replies. “Has any English rose caught your eye?”

He pauses, looks at her with a surprised expression.

“Your majesty—“ he says, flushing a little.

It’s quite a sight, Anne must admit, seeing such a confident man made speechless. Anne observes him more carefully. He appears to be genuine.

“How do you find her?” She questions. “The Lady Mary?”

He hesitates.

“Speak freely,” Anne says. “I will not pass on what you say to my husband.”

Something in her expression must convince him.

“She is. . . splendid,” he says. “I did not expect to find her so wonderful, but I do.”

“Has she accepted your courtship?”

“Sometimes it seems like she might,” he answers honestly. “Other times she pulls back. Just yesterday I convinced her not to return a locket I purchased for her.”

Anne nods.

Silence falls between them.

“Your grace,” she says, something lodged in her throat. “I want my step daughter to be happy. She’s suffered enough in her lifetime, is that understood?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Anne stares at him.

“If you love her, I will help you,” she tells him. “If you do not, we can pretend as though this conversation never happened.”

“I do,” he says. “Love her.”

Anne smiles.

“Good.”

—

When Anne finds Lady Mary, she’s in the gardens, dressed warmly, with long coats, gloves and fur drapings. A locket is in her hands.

“Lady Mary,” she calls out.

Her step daughter looks up at her, startled, hastily shoves the locket up her sleeve.

“Your majesty,” Mary utters, almost looking as if she wished to escape.

“Please don’t leave,” Anne says. “We need to talk, Lady Mary.”

The girl stiffens.

“What is there to speak of, your majesty?”

“Perhaps we should go inside—‘

“No.”

“Alright,” Anne says softly. “Lady Mary, I wish for you to be happy.”

Mary’s face remains set in stone.

“I do not want you to feel as though we are trying to be rid of you— I want to help. I know how you feel—“

“No you don’t!” Mary cries out, tears filling her eyes. “You have no idea what I feel!”

Anne watches Mary gasp, chest heaving. She waits.

“I miss my mother,” Mary whispers, a hand rising to her chest. “I wish she was here.”

Anne feels something inside her sting a little, but shoves it aside.

“I’m sorry,” she tells her, hoping Mary believes her. “She would have wanted you to be happy, Lady Mary.”

“Even if he’s nothing that she would have wanted for me?” Mary asks. “Even if he’s not what I should want? Even if it’s against what I believe?” She shakes her head. “I’ve betrayed her.”

“By falling in love?” Anne asks. “Lady Mary, I know I can not claim to know your mother. I was young and vindictive and jealous and in love. I didn’t treat her as I should have. But I know, more than anything, that she loved you and would have wanted you to be happy.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she replies. “I swear it, Lady Mary, by everything I hold dear, I swear it.”

“But my father—“

“Will not be an issue,” Anne cuts in.

Mary nods, looking shaken.

“Alright,” she murmurs. She slips the locket out of her sleeve, clutches onto it tightly. “I must think on it a little while longer.”

“Of course,” Anne says.

She lets the young girl go.

—

Anne makes sure Henry isn’t a problem.

She warns Lady Mary about the marriage bed, tells her what to expect, how to act.

“You’ll be alright,” she tells her. “You love each other.”

They do. Anyone can see it.

As she watches Mary walk down the aisle, she can’t help but think to the sky above, _I know I wronged you. I hope you can forgive me. I’ll make sure your daughter is happy until my very last breath._

And she does.


End file.
